


O Bromeo, Bromeo, No Homeo

by god_awful_mormon



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Anachronistic, Crack, Excessive Drinking, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/god_awful_mormon/pseuds/god_awful_mormon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Romeo and Mercutio wake up with awful hangovers and no memory of the night before, they must retrace their steps and interview their acquaintances to reconstruct the forgotten events, which include an anachronistic court ruling, lots of irresponsible drinking, and a drunken decision that shocks them both. One thing’s for sure: life will never be the same for these two bros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Bromeo, Bromeo, No Homeo

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by tumblr user lorax177, who asked for a fic based on [this post](http://lorax177.tumblr.com/post/122896786145/what-alchemy-mormonstrous).

“Bro,” Romeo muttered when he woke up, “Bro, what happened last night?”

“I dunno bro,” said Mercutio. He was lying beside Romeo on his bed. “I can’t remember a thing. I was so drunk, bro.”

“Me too, bro.”

“Bro, what time is it? Is it even morning, bro?”

“Dude, I don’t fucking know.” With great effort, Romeo stood up and stuck his head out the window. “I think it’s morning.”

Mercutio joined him at the window. “Yeah, man, it looks like morning. This window faces east, right?”

They heard a shout from below and looked down. It was Benvolio, waving and calling out to them. “Good morrow, Romeo! Mercutio! / I gratulate you for glad yesternight!” With that, he went on his way.

The bros withdrew and closed the window. “Uh, dude, what the fuck is he talking about?” Mercutio wondered.

“Don’t ask me, bro, I don’t remember either. I guess we must have done something great, if he’s congratulating us.”

“No shit.” Mercutio pressed the palms of his hands to his eyelids. “Ugh, bro, I’m so hungover right now.”

“Bro, me too,” said Romeo. “But, but, bro, we need to figure out what happened last night. What if it was something awesome? I would want to know if I did something awesome.”

“You’re right bro,” Mercutio agreed. “Okay, what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Uh… bro, I think the last thing I remember is being here, in my house.”

“Dude, yeah, I remember. We were sitting around, just chilling, but then we saw some cool people outside and they looked like they were on their way to a party, so we joined in. I can’t remember who was there, though. Can you?”

Romeo shook his head forlornly. “Sorry, bro.”

Mercutio puzzled over this problem for a minute. This was very difficult due to his intense hangover, but he persevered bravely until he came upon a thought. “Hey, dude, wasn’t your mom home? Maybe she saw where we went.”

“Dude!” Romeo exclaimed. “Dude, you’re a fuckin’ genius, bro. Let’s go ask her.”

They stumbled about the house until they came upon Lady Montague in the Solar, where she was sitting primly and reading the Bible – in Latin, of course, as owning an Italian translation in the fourteenth century would be positively sacrilegious, not to mention completely unheard of.

“Hey, mom. Mornin’,” said Romeo.

Lady Montague looked up from the tome. “I see thou hast arisen finally, / Thou foolish boy, midday hath nearly come! / Mercutio, too, I see, is on his feet. / Thank God the spirits did not strike you dead.”

“That’s great, mom. Listen, I do you happen to know where Mercutio and me went last night, and-slash-or who we were with? We sort of blacked out…”

“‘Mercutio and I’ was thy intention,” his mother scolded. “But yes, I do recall what hath transpired. / It was to be a night of sweet tranquility. / Ye were quite pleasant until, to my ire, / A group of raucous knaves passed by our door.”

“Jesus, mom, just cut to the chase already,” Romeo groaned.

“Now calm thyself, my son, be not so rude. / I come upon thy question presently. / When ye beheld the noisy jubilee, / Ye did not hesitate but joined forthwith. / The young rogues had with them all kinds of drink. / They offered you much wine and other filth. / The spirits from them ye did promptly take, / And thus impaired ye went along with them.”

“Okay, but like, where did we go and who were we with? You still haven’t actually answered my questions, mom.”

“The merry band went north along the road. / As for who with, if I remember true…” she sighed heaily. “That crude Antonio and vile Bassanio. / I wish that it weren’t so, but they were there.”

“What’s your problem with Antonio and Bassanio?” Romeo grumbled. “Sure, they drink a lot and do a ton of drugs and have been known to paint huge dicks on publicly owned buildings on occasion, but they’re cool guys.”

“Forget about it, bro,” Mercutio interrupted before Lady Montague could launch into a lecture. “The important thing is, now we know who we were drinking with, so we have an important lead in the case of What Awesome Thing Did We Do Last Night. Come on, let’s go find those guys.”

It didn’t take long to find them. Antonio and Bassanio were sitting on the curb near their favorite bar, sharing a joint to ward off their hangovers. This pre-protestant-reformation town was also pre-war-on-drugs, so while being found to possess an Italian Bible could send you to the gallows, doing drugs in public was totally fine.

When Antonio and Bassanio saw Romeo and Mercutio approaching, they eagerly waved them over.

“Our two good friends, god’s blessings to you both!” Antonio greeted them. “Would that ye sit and try this dank ass weed.”

Romeo and Mercutio both took him up on his offer.

“Ah,” Mercutio sighed after a generous drag from the joint. “I feel better already. Marijuana is so great. Can you imagine if some future society illegalized this shit?”

“A state that were to ban this blessed herb,” Bassanio asserted. “Would most assuredly be dystopian.”

The four of them continued to pass the joint around as they chatted.

“So, listen, dudes,” said Romeo, “Mercutio and I are trying to figure out what happened last night. We got _so_ drunk that we can’t remember a single thing.”

“Ye have forgotten ev’ry last detail?” asked Antonio.

“Yup. Our minds are both totally blank,” Mercutio confirmed.

“Alas! The saddest news I ever heard! / It was a most exciting jubilee. / For, after we all heard the joyous news, / Great many youths assembled about town, / With cheering, drink, and dancing in the streets!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Romeo. “Hold up. What news are you talking about?”

Antonio looked back and forth between the two and saw that they were equally confused. “But did ye really have so much to drink? / Why, just the talk of all of Italy! / Here is the news I saved from yesterday. / I bid ye take and read it for yourselves. / And forthwith see your cause for drunkenness.” He handed them a newspaper.

_The Verona Journal_

_June 26, 1315_

_PROGRESSIVE RULING SHOCKS ITALY_

_In a court ruling that has been called “ridiculously anachronistic,” gay marriage was declared legal throughout Italy earlier this morning. This came as an utter shock to citizens, most of whom were unaware that Italy had a supreme court, let alone that being gay was a thing. Almost everyone is against it, but since this is not a democracy and the court’s power is God-given and unquestionable, same-sex couples can now be wed in any Italian city and there’s nothing anybody can do about it. Today marked a great step forward for gay rights. (We remind you, however, that sodomy is still forbidden, and is still punishable by burning at the stake.)_

When Antonio saw that they had finished reading, he continued his tale. “Thus ye and I and dear Bassanio / And many other wondrous friends besides / Did travel hence from tavern to the next / And we drank merrily at every one. / At one such place Mercutio turned and said, / To Romeo: ‘My brother, would it not / Be of the most amusing sort of jest / If thou and I went off to yonder church / And there at once by yonder priest were wed?’”

Romeo and Mercutio looked at each other uneasily.

Not seeming to notice their discomfort, Antonio continued, “And verily ye forthwith stood and left / With all intent to go through with your plans. / When last I saw you, ye were off to church.”

“What??” Romeo cried in horror.

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you stop us?” Mercutio demanded.

“Think us not to be your sober friends,” Antonio responded defensively, “Responsible to keep you well behaved, / For we were near or just as drunk as you / And thus equally taken with the jest.”

“Fear not, fellows, ye were near drunk asleep,” Bassanio added. “E’en odds say ye passed out along the way.”

“Well, I’m sure nothing happened,” Mercutio told Romeo decisively. “But let’s swing by the church and ask just to make sure. Which church was it, Antonio?”

Antonio pointed to a steeple poking out over the rooftops a few blocks away.

And so, still pretty hungover and smelling strongly of pot, Romeo and Mercutio went to church.

As soon as they entered the building, the priest noticed them and went over to greet them. “How now, my sons, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, hey… priest dude…” said Mercutio. In an aside to Romeo, he muttered, “What do you call a priest?”

“‘Father,’ I think,” Romeo answered in the same low tone.

“That’s weird, dude.”

“How is that weird?”

“It sounds like some kind of daddy kink thing.”

“Mercutio, oh my god.”

Returning to a normal volume, Mercutio greeted the priest, “Hey there… Father…  how’s it hanging?”

“I am well, I thank thee,” the priest answered

“Great. Listen, do you remember whether my friend and I stopped by here last night?”

“Ah yes, my son, I do remember clear / Ye came to me exceeding late last night / And asked that ye without delay be wed.”

“But you said no, right?” said Romeo. “I mean, we were obviously way too drunk to make such an important life-altering decision.”

“Alas, ‘twas not my say of aye or nay. / Gay marriage has been mandated by law. / The Supreme Court is infamously cruel / To those who would reject their noble rule. / If I were to appear not to comply, / T’would welcome certain death upon my head.”

“Holy shit,” said Mercutio, “You actually married us. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“’Tis true, I married you, and then, my sons, / By luck, your cousin named Benvolio / Was passing by and saw you through the glass / And brought you home and put you both abed.”

“Can’t you… like… divorce us?” Romeo asked.

“I chastise thee for this affront to God!” the priest snapped. “Divorce is quite forbidden by the Church!” He took a deep breath and, more calmly, explained, “Last night’s anachronism stands alone; / Divorce must wait for nineteen-seventy.”

Abashed, the newlyweds slunk out of the church.

“Bro, I can’t believe we’re married,” Romeo lamented as they walked home.  “What will Rosaline think?”

“Dude, stop,” said Mercutio. “Rosaline is not your gf, bro. That was never going to happen.”

“Well, _now_ it’s never going to happen.”

They walked in silence until they reached the Montague manor.

“Of course,” Mercutio said thoughtfully, gazing up at the house, “We have to live together now or people will talk.”

“Yeah,” Romeo sighed. “I guess I don’t want to appear sinful in the eyes of our community and of God.”

“Suppose we have to spend the rest of our lives together bro.”

“Suppose so.”

Back in Romeo’s chamber, they sat down on the bed, and stared at the white stone wall.

“I just can’t believe this,” Romeo groaned. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize I was _that_ bad of a husband to have. Thanks a lot.”

“Nah, bro, nah!” Romeo quickly corrected himself. “It’s not that! I love spending time with you bro! It’s just that, like, I’m not gay.”

“Oh, totally, me neither dude.” Mercutio shook his head. “Straight as they come. All about that pussy.”

“Yep,” Romeo agreed. “Nothin’ better than that sweet, heterosexual pussy.”

“I’m just… so, so, straight bro. Just… straight and manly.”

“Absolutely. All about that hetero shit. Football… beer…”

They were now facing one another.

“Building things,” Mercutio added.

“Power tools…”

“Sports commentary…”

“Pinup calendars…”

They kissed passionately.

After a few seconds, they pulled away, panting.

Mercutio looked into his husband’s eyes. “Bruh.”

“No homo, though,” Romeo said quickly.

“Oh, absolutely. No homo.” With that, they locked lips once again, and then preceded to violate every anti-sodomy law on the books.

They got caught and were publicly executed.

The end.


End file.
